CrazyCholeBlack

The Spaniard shifted impatiently in his vigil. Night had begun to fall on the city, what little light filled the tavern fading to a dim gray. The woman had yet to return from the upper floor. As the time stretched he became more and more agitated. He stood from the stiff chair, pacing at the base of the stairs. His ear strained for any sounds. His sun tanned brow furrowed at the silence. He spun suddenly at the sound of footsteps in the tavern door. The shadowed figure of his partner closed the distance between the door and rear incline. “¿Que?” The newcomer muttered, gesturing to the rooms above their heads. Rough palms rose questioningly, the waiting man had no answers. The other brushed past, frustrated at his crewmates uselessness. He gained the upper floor easily, skipping stairs with his long strides. With haste doors were thrown open, the spaces searched quickly for any sign of Strikers companion. A swift blow from his heavy shoulder breached the few locks that stood in his way. Each room was as empty as the last. His anger grew with each until at last he was fuming. How had the girl gotten past them? Had the other man let her slip? He rushed back down the steps, grabbing his partner by the arm. “¿Donde está?” “¿Ella no está allí? Tan malo.” Panic flashed in the other man’s eyes. There had been no one in or out of the tavern except for the young sailor, he was sure of that. Could she have known they were following her and slipped out an upper window? He doubted the woman was that smart. She had seemed to intent on reaching the tavern to notice anything other than her destination. Still, she had managed to elude them. He cringed involuntarily, the thought of Ulises’ furry breeding fear in his heart. “Capitán no será feliz” the other agreed, his volume dropping as a worn older man entered the tavern. The ash covered tavern master eyed the two dark skinned men suspiciously as he rounded the bar. He began absently straightening the ransacked space, his gaze never shifting from the pair. The Spaniards returned the suspicious look, quietly departing out the front entrance. They continued through the streets in silence, each dreading the news they must deliver.

Red Cat, try this thread. There's good ideas on where to start, order and all & lots of references both authentic & hollywood. http://pyracy.com/forums/index.php?showtop...=4963&hl=top+10 When in doubt just go to Kass's site. I'm there just to drool over the patterns at least daily.

oh but didn't ye put it all on yer good captains tab? Turkey legs all around!

tease! Everyone is looking amazing. It really says something when you can look at a group shot & identify everyone based on thier coats. Actually it probibly says I've been drooling over everyones kits for too long.

ok, so I've finally made my "list" -I'd get lazer eye surgery before and eliminate the trouble of glasses etc -I'd do something long term/perminant for the girly parts too -sadly I'll have to take my thryoid meds. I'm sort of dead without em. -an almanac for the year or at least a list of stuff like who's the governer where I'm going. All those name/place/date details that I have so much trouble remembering -sketch book & a graphite stick -gold to trade for coin and buy stuff with Who I'd take with? well #1 would be my best friend. He's got all the skills needed, shoots, hunts & puts up with me From the pub though... still contemplating that one.

yeah, but fer once 'e and I agree. I've been discussing with everyone who'll listen since the thread started. I can see some merit to long range modern weaponry. It would give a pyrate the instant upper hand if they can pick people off at say, a mile distance. So if superiority is yer thing, 'ave at it. But that's just not how I want to go back. I figure if I'm going back then I'll take the illness, rotten food & unwashed masses because that's what it was like. I don't want to impose my modern mentality on my surroundings, I want to experience them in as genuine a way as possible. Oi! I'm a blast at parties I tell ya!

Jane perks up enough to laugh at Ransom and Red Cat trying to breathe through the remaining cheese head hats. “See, I told Captain Striker blue cheese was a bad idea for a hat.”

Oh good, if yer not drinkin it, there's more fer me. A crewe o little swabs hit me port today n I could use the stiff drink! Rum o course Ray! Welcome Captain Synn.

“She will do no one any good at the bottom of the sea, Sir. La Maligna sails, or we have no more business. As to her guns, she is a full war galleon, 40 cannon strong. Quite a formidable foe unless misfortunate should befall her.” Ulises leaned forward closing the little space between himself and his companions. His voice dropped; the rough rasp barely audible even in the quiet inn. A sly smile crept into the corners of the Capitán’s eyes. “Her cargo may also suffer a similar fate. Who is to say what the Dane took, yes.” He could feel the hand of greed gripping the men in front of him at the thought of additional spoils. Ulises sat back from the tight circle, his onyx eyes shifting from one to the other, the glitter of triumph behind the dark pupils. “Do we have an agreement, gentlemen?”

Get ta know me a little 'n it all becomes terribly apparent.

Jane raised her head from where she’s been dosing at the end of the bar, again. She yawns in a rather vulgar manner and proceeds to smack her lips several times. With a sneer she empties the dregs of the mug in front of her. Suddenly noticing the newcomers she blinks several times, rubs her eyes, and squints as if trying to figure out what she’s looking at. With a quizzical raise to her brow she shakes her head. “Next time remind me ta read up afor joinin one o yer parties Ransom. Wots this bout sheep?” She whispers, nudging the giggling lump of Red Cat. The only response Jane gets is more gasping laughter as the cat falls writhing to the floor.

Greetin's Chris. I luv it when a new crewe comes inta tha port. Plenty o free drinks. I'll take a rum thank ye.

He doesn't need us ta give 'im a hand. He can take 'em him self! Greetings Hacksaw. I'll take a rum so long as yer buying. But ye can keep tha garnish. (Jane fishes a finger out of her glass and hands it back to the good sawbones)

Red Cat, doncha no a watched pot never boils?

see twas a lot easier before everyone had the same sig line. Now who's bright idea was that?

Ah I did that with the originals way back. Haven't gotten to seeing the new films though. Are they as bad as I've heard? PBS kids "Cyber chase" is on currently. I wouldn't say I'm watching it though, the little swab is. I rarely get TV time.

I'm not very original, it's just my colors. Yawn! I've been thinking it needs to be a different color to stand out better in a fast scoll though. Or am I the only one that uses the avatar/sig line as a way to find their last reading point in a thread?

Shadowed evening light hid the satisfied smile the curved Ulises lips. Coin was the one weakness every man had. His dark eyes settled on the matching faces of the men. “Yes, a civilized conversation about business is in order. Let us find someplace quiet” His tone was calm, disguising the triumph he began to feel well inside his chest. Ulises’ long strides brought the three men through the darkening city to the dimly lit common room of a small inn. He settled himself quietly at a dark corner table. A mousy serving girl was sent away with a simple gesture from his scarred hand. The other men sat across from the Spaniard, a mix of interest and apprehension in their faces. A deceptively pleasant expression filled Ulises face. From his pocket two gold doubloons were drawn, one directed to each of his companions. He leaned forward, tips of his fingers pressing lightly against each other. “There is a fine Spanish ship by the name of La Maligna here in Port Royal, captained by an undeserving Dane. It would be a shame for some ill fate to befall perhaps her many guns. Would it not gentlemen?” The poor light glinted off his smile. He eyed the men carefully, evaluating their trust by the subtle motions they made towards the gold. He wanted La Maligna defenseless, an open target when Striker finally sailed out of the bay. As long as the ship remained capable of making the return trip to Spain, Ulises had little care for the cost. “Shall we say eight more upon completion? So long as she remains sailable, yes.”

Jane finally uncurls from under her rough wool blanket. Her eyes search the room for a moment, trying to decide if she’s missed the after party and should go back to sleep or not. With a yawn she stands, bundling the cover around her shoulders. She tosses a dull coin into Oderlesseye’s donation boot. “Aye, rum fer breakfast indeed. So long as Mr. Tar isn’t about. I think ‘e got tired o me insomnia and slipped a sleeping aid in one o those drinks last night” She yawns again, the back of her thin hand covering her gaping mouth before gathering the waiting mug.

Charles Chole hurried down the rickety stairs, turning sharply to exit through the back alley behind the tavern. He took no notice of the other man in the main room, to intent on his final destination. As he reached the streets his pace quickened, until the Anna Rae came into sight. His heart nearly stopped seeing the merchantman still fully docked. Crew bustled on her decks stowing cargo, but no canvas was set, no preparations to moor further from the flaming city visible. “Wot’s this?” He hollered to the first available man. Thin arms gestured wide, indicating the lack of preparations. He cringed involuntarily as the shower of sparks fell around the merchantman’s deck. The thick necked sailor paused as he bent to an over sized crate. A work creased face rose to greet Charles “Ahoy Chippy. Cap’n says ta get all tha cargo stowed right quick afor we haul inta tha bay.” “Is ‘e out ov ‘is wits?” rage burned at the carpenters cheeks. “Glad ta see yer joinin’ us lad” Captain Fulton hollered, cutting off Charles’ rant. The young man spun on his heel, furious glare directed at the captain. The overweight man was reeling drunk and obviously in a terrible mood. He swayed on his feet more than was needed on the anchored ship. Charles’ furry was uncontrollable. He remained on the decrepit Anna Rae out of duty to the previous carpenter. When Joseph had died Charles promised to keep the ship floating, what ever the cost. He had ignored the near starvation, even the lack of pay in order to keep his vow. The threat of fire and loss of life was too much for him to bear. “Wot’s tha meanin ov this Fulton? Ye intend ta ‘ave us all burnt to a crisp sittin ‘ere in tha docks?” His voice carried loudly over the ship. Work slowed as crew paused to watch the altercation, many secretly rooting for the young carpenter as he railed against the drunken captain. Fulton’s rum reddened eyes locked on the other man. He became suddenly sober, anger overriding the alcohol in his blood. Fat legs stepped closer to the challenger, thick palms rolled into heavy fists. “Fininsh the loading. All o ye!” his round face hollered, sending the observers scurrying back to their chores. “Lot ov good tha cargo’ll be when tha ships nothin but a cinder!” The swing of the Fulton’s fist caught Charles off guard. His jaw reeled, the rest of him stumbling behind. He regained his footing quickly, furious green eyes locking on the red faced captain. His jaw set, prepared for any additional blow the man dealt. A torn cuff wiped the trickle of blood from his split lip defiantly. “Best git ta work then boyo. Less ye want a date with me daughter. Aye?” The threat was clear in the captain’s still balled fists. Charles ground his teeth together. His mind raced over his limited choices. At least on the Anna Rae he had gained some position and level of safety, on another ship or shore there was no such guarantee. He closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath of the smoky air, mind drifting back to only a few hours prior. A tight knot formed in Charles’s gut, he should have stayed on La Maligna but old obligations stood in the way. His proud head fell as he admitted defeat. “Aye, captain” He spit the words at the loathsome leader. Turning sharply he descended into the hold of the merchantman to assist with the stowage.

“Su pérdida” Ulises shrugged, the coin stilling in his hand before it disappeared back into the dark folds of his coat. Unfazed by the raised pistol, his sinister eyes never wavered from the red haired man’s. A burn of anger stirred in his chest. His frown deepened noticeably. His own men were useful but only to a certain extent. In order to get close enough to La Maligna for the next stage of his plan, Ulises needed an English speaking agent. It was a roll he was willing to pay handsomely for, more than petty thieving drunkards could ever hope to gain on their own. Unfortunately his first estimation of the men had been correct. They were nothing more than words without action. Sternly Ulises spun on a heel, long strides pulling him towards the tavern entrance. “Tontos” he muttered in frustration as his dark shadow disappeared into the fading daylight.

In her haste to leave La Maligna the woman failed to notice the two shadows that fell instep behind her. One figure paused across the vacant street from the inn she entered, leaning into a dim doorway. The other followed closer at her heels; dark eyes watching as she ascended the narrow staircase. Satisfied that the woman was cornered, the Spaniard settled himself in full view of the stairway. A work worn shoe propped on the rough hewn table, follow closely by a second. Heavy arms crossed over his chest as he waited. When she returned he would make his move. He remembered his crew mate mention the woman, furious over the head wound she had inflicted with a simple bottle. The thought brought a sinister smile to the waiting man’s face. He rather liked a little fight now and again. The waiting man took little notice of a young man, dressed in cast of sailor’s clothes as he raced down the tavern stairs and disappeared out the rear entrance. Patiently the Spaniard continued to wait as evening began to fall on the smoldering city.

"Only sometimes?" Jane huffs, crossing her arms across her chest in mock frustration "guess I'll 'ave to work on that." Her cheeks turn pink as she attempts to stifle a giggle.

"Why so suprised Mr Tar?" Jane questions, stepping carefully over Red Cat's tail in order to snatch another of the delicious rum chocolates.

"ye need not buy tha Drinks Mr. Blackfoot. Although if ye wish to, far be it from me ta turn a gentleman down." Without waiting for a response Jane stumbles through the fog towards the screaming tombstone. She fumbles around with it for a minute, trying to find the off switch before finally shutting the annoying contraption off.